“Obviously you haven’t seen the fortifications at the top before,” Yain said, smirking back at the angel. “The walls and towers above are impressive, and for good reason. Port Hope is incredibly important to the country, and they have excellent defenses.”
“Ah, much better than I expected. I’ll admit that this cove makes me… anxious,” Vinara said, looking around unhappily as she considered, then asked, “Has no one here ever heard of tidal waves? If one came in there’s no way in all the hells more than a fraction of these people could get up that path in time.”
“Um, maybe they have a solution for that? Probably magical?” Maura suggested, blanching slightly as she looked around, and Kitania winced as well.
She hadn’t thought about it until Vinara brought it up, but the port was just flat enough that there wouldn’t be anywhere to hide from a tidal wave. It made Kitania even more uncomfortable, and also inclined to get out of the lower city as soon as possible.
“No, Maura, I don’t think so. Oh, they could use magic to regulate the water, but unless they have a deity of water on hand, almost any barrier to slow water would shatter under the weight of a wave like that,” Vinara said, her voice almost kind, but in a way that sent chills down Kitania’s spine. “Water is immensely heavy, and enough of it can destroy nearly anything.”
“Good thing we’re leaving, then,” Eziel murmured softly, and Kitania cracked a smile, looking up at the switchbacks unhappily.
“Agreed,” Kitania said, inwardly thankful for her ability to regenerate. Without it, the climb would be really unpleasant.
Regardless, they headed for the entrance to the switchbacks, and as they did Kitania felt like her stomach was tightening still more. They were drawing closer to the heavens, and thus, closer to danger. She worried, but mostly for the others.
Standing atop the Adamant Pinnacle, Sorm took a deep breath, enjoying the cold wind that had his clothing billowing around him, while flags made snapping sounds above and behind him. In the distance above him was a pale, barely visible white glow, the portal to the heavens looking almost like a cloud. If it weren’t stationary and perfectly circular, most people might consider it a cloud, or at least most mortals would.
Sorm preferred looking up to looking down, but despite that he allowed his gaze to slowly lower until he could see the multitude of mountains around him, much of their sides barren even over a millennium after the battle that had taken place here. Sorm didn’t remember what the range had been originally named, but now they were the Scarlet Peaks. Even now there were craters here and there on the mountainsides, spots where the devastation that’d been unleashed had lasted far too long. At least there weren’t many bones, as most of those had decayed, been removed, or been buried. On the other hand, it served as a reminder of why Sorm was doing this.
According to reports he’d seen, close to thirty thousand angels had participated in the battle, along with a hundred thousand mortals on their side. Opposing them had been a combined force of mortals and demons around a hundred thousand strong, possibly as much as a hundred and fifty thousand, though the records were uncertain of the exact numbers. While not as famous as the Siege of Rosken, the Battle of Scarlet Peaks had raged for nearly two weeks before the demons and Fallen Kingdoms had been driven back, but the cost had been incredibly high. More than half of each army had been killed in the battle, and so much blood had been shed that it’d led to the mountains being renamed.
It wasn’t something Sorm liked thinking about, to be perfectly honest, but it did help reinforce his determination when he thought about it. Around fifteen thousand angels had died in the battle, and the thought of all the grieving families made him angry. The battle had also led to the establishment of the Adamant Pinnacle, and the society had been fortunate enough to essentially take over the fortress without anyone realizing what they’d done.
“Pardon me, Master Sorm, but we have the information you were asking for,” a man said calmly, and Sorm turned away from the view, smiling slightly.
“Indeed? Excellent work, Adam,” Sorm said, smiling warmly at the blond-haired angel, and the man smiled in return. Adam wasn’t as handsome as many angels, but the man was fit and a fervent believer in their cause, which more than made up for that in Sorm’s opinion.
“Would you care to come inside? I’m afraid it’s a touch cool for these discussions, at least for me,” Adam said, gesturing to the doorway.
Sorm really couldn’t blame him, considering the sheer height of the Pinnacle. The structure was built for angels, not for mortals, and as such they’d built a tall, narrow fortress with heavy magical defenses, no ground entrances or ways through the tall, narrow walls, and numerous sally ports for their airborne soldiers. It also meant that the wind was powerful enough to cut through almost any clothing, but that was the price they paid for building a keep on the peak of a mountain.
“Certainly, if you’ll lead the way? I’m not accustomed to the layout yet, and I doubt I’ll have time for that to change,” Sorm said, smiling wryly at Adam. “I am in a bit of a hurry.”
“Ah, of course. Right this way,” Adam said, nodding as his eyes twinkled with understanding. “I don’t blame you, though. It isn’t as though you were ever stationed here, and this is rather different than most other fortresses, especially in the heavens.”
They started into the spire, the door cutting off the wind’s chill as Sorm closed it behind him, and walked down wide, arched halls that were lit by orbs that seemed to glitter with a captured fragment of the sun’s light. The floor wasn’t large, but the halls didn’t go directly where one might expect, either.
“No, it isn’t. Most of the ones in the heavens are either built for show these days or are ancient enough that I wouldn’t trust them to survive a single attack,” Sorm replied, looking around curiously as he considered, then asked. “Speaking of which… have you heard anything from the Holy Council? Particularly about the Forest of Sighs?”
“Not much, unfortunately. They reported that there was an attack that could have been the fault of a faction in the hells, but that the details weren’t certain,” Adam said, a faint sneer in his voice as he shook his head and continued. “While they haven’t come to conclusions yet, they’ve warned all fortresses to be on alert in case of an attack.”
“I wish I could say I was surprised, but every time I hope that they might have learned better, the Holy Council only disappoints me more,” Sorm said, letting out a soft sigh of frustration, following Adam into the angel’s office.
Tapestries depicting the battle a millennium past adorned the walls, and a well-used desk sat in the middle of the room, mostly covered by papers. A scrying orb sat to the side, a flawless crystal ball that Sorm knew had been crafted via magic, and beside it were a couple of angel feathers.
“Agreed, but what can we do that we haven’t already? We’ll continue toward our goal, and in the end they’ll either adapt or suffer a most unfortunate fate,” Adam said, circling the desk to sit, letting out a sigh. “Now, let’s start with the bad news. I’ve learned that the pirates were driven off in their attack on the elven ship, and every indication is that the renegades and their abominations survived the attack.”
“Heaven’s tears… well, I can’t say that I’m surprised. If the pirates had taken them, it would have solved a great many problems, but there’s nothing to be done about that,” Sorm said unhappily, taking a seat as he resisted the urge to growl at the thought of Isalla and Roselynn. A part of him hated that they’d managed to get away, but a larger part of him was almost happy. If they’d been captured or killed, he wouldn’t be able to make them suffer like they deserved.
“Yes, I entirely agree. However, they appear not to have taken heavy precautions against scrying. While they are warded, Isalla’s feathers allowed me to pin down her location far more precisely than I’d hoped to,” Adam said, nodding to the feathers with a smile that helped Sorm relax. “I couldn’t actually see her and any companions she might ha
ve, but the traitor appears to have left Port Hope and is moving in the direction of the Harth Plateau.”
“Uthren? She’s going to Uthren?” Sorm asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise.
“I can’t be certain, but that appears to be the case,” Adam confirmed, frowning slightly as he admitted, “I’m not sure why, considering what a stronghold it is for the heavens.”
“Yes, but it also has a large contingent from each of the orders. I wouldn’t be surprised if Roselynn is looking to find allies there,” Sorm said, his thoughts racing as he considered possibilities, then added, “Besides, even if it is a stronghold of faith, eliminating angels who’ve gone there would be… difficult to manage. The locals have enough reverence for us that they’d be far more likely to take them into custody. If that happened, they could even talk, and that could be disastrous.”
“Oof, you have a point there,” Adam said, wincing as he considered, then added a little more hopefully, “On the other hand, unless they’re flying or taking a stagecoach, which didn’t seem likely from my divinations, you have more than a week before they reach the borders. That gives some time to intercept them, since it’s only a two-day flight to the route they’d have to take.”
“Mm, true enough. However… do you know of any bandits we could tip off near Uthren’s border? Ones who wouldn’t have any idea we’re behind the tip, I mean,” Sorm said, looking at Adam thoughtfully. “If I could watch and figure out their strengths and weaknesses, it’d help a lot in dealing with our unwelcome guests.”
“I think I can. If you can give me a few minutes, I’m sure I can track someone down who’d know,” Adam said, smiling as he arched his eyebrows. “Would that be acceptable?”
“Please. They’ve gotten far closer to the heavens than I’d like, so it’s time to nip this in the bud,” Sorm said, nodding in satisfaction.
“I’ll go speak to Reana, then,” Adam said, rising from his chair and heading for the door.
Sorm sat back in his chair to wait, smiling thinly as he did so, a sense of anticipation rising along with his tamped-down rage. He was looking forward to making those who’d hurt Haral pay for what they’d done.
Chapter 12
Haral sat in the teahouse, brooding as she sipped from her cup. The tea was good, she knew it was, yet at the same time it seemed almost flavorless in her mouth. It shouldn’t, but somehow she’d lost the joy that it should have given her, and that was worrying.
It’d started after she’d dealt with Isalla’s family, she knew. Eliminating them had been necessary, she kept telling herself that, yet at the same time she wondered why it had been necessary. Isalla’s family had been nobodies, they’d had no influence, and no one would have paid them any attention if they’d tried to claim that the Society of Golden Dawn existed. And now she’d scouted the area adjoining the Emberborn family’s homes, and what she’d seen left Haral aghast.
While the Emberborn family was well-known in the heavens, that was mostly because of Ember itself, and the notable family members who’d wielded the blade. What she hadn’t realized was how large the family truly was, or how wealthy they must be.
The Emberborn compound was huge, with at least four mansions she’d seen, and Haral had spotted a group of twenty or so children of various ages playing in the gardens, many of them with the bright red hair that Roselynn possessed. There were also dozens of adults, and she’d seen a luncheon among a group in the garden as well. Some of the men and women had been in uniforms of soldiers, most predictably in the Order of the Phoenix, but others had been definitively non-military.
It had shaken Haral more than she cared to admit, and a few casual, quiet inquiries from merchants had led her to realize that she’d been directed to eliminate an ancient, noble family of more than two hundred angels, many of whom had little to do with the war. Oh, the Emberborn family was powerful, unlike Isalla’s family, and they could easily make waves if Roselynn could convince them that something was wrong in the heavens, but killing that many of them would be horrifying. If she’d done it without investigating, perhaps she’d have been able to act without qualms, but as it was Haral wasn’t sure she could go through with her orders.
Perhaps that made Haral a hypocrite, she realized, considering what she’d done to the Forest of Sighs, but she didn’t care about that. They’d been mortal elves, without the potentially limitless lifespan of angels, and the kingdom had been corrupt. The heavens, though… angels were the epitome of what people should be, and killing innocent civilians who had no effect on what the Holy Council chose to do… bothered Haral.
“Pardon me, but is this seat taken?” a man asked, startling Haral into looking up from her teacup. A handsome angel with dark hair, shaved cheeks, and twinkling blue eyes stood across from her, his hand on the back of the chair. The man was wearing fine silk clothing, and the colors indicated he was from one of the noble families. Fortunately not the Emberborn family, but even so his presence disconcerted her.
“What?” Haral asked, taken aback. She looked around, then spoke further, her tone prim as she said, “I see plenty of empty tables, so why would you choose mine?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You look depressed, which is a horrible situation for such a beautiful woman,” the man said, smiling more broadly. “I’m simply trying to cheer you up.”
Haral’s temper flared suddenly at that, and her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. Still, she kept from snapping at the man immediately, instead speaking softly, her voice level. “I see. I’m afraid that I don’t wish for company, so please find another table.”
“Oh, don’t be that way! Being alone and in a bad mood is just—” the man began, pulling out the chair he’d been holding, but Haral’s fraying temper all but snapped as she interrupted.
“No. I am not going to have tea with you, sir,” Haral said flatly, glaring at the man angrily, bile welling up in her throat. “Now leave.”
The man looked at Haral in shock, then anger as his eyes narrowed and he spoke. “Well, if that doesn’t ruin your appearance entirely. I suppose there isn’t any point in trying to help someone like you.”
Turning, the man all but stalked away, and Haral barely kept herself from clenching her fist tight enough to break the handle of her cup. Instead she closed her eyes and thought of Sorm and his easy smile, which helped for a moment. Right up until she remembered what he was doing, and her eyes snapped open at the sound of a pair of footsteps. A maid stood nearby, looking nervous as she looked at Haral.
“My apologies, ma’am, but—” the maid began, but Haral raised a hand to cut her off, standing suddenly as she glanced over to see the man who’d approached her speaking to the woman running the teahouse.
“Don’t bother. Obviously, the good noble couldn’t handle someone rejecting his attention,” Haral said, her voice practically dripping with sarcasm as she shook her head. “I wouldn’t have thought his ego was so fragile, but he certainly ruined my mood as well, if it hadn’t been bad enough as it was. There’s no point to staying if he’s going to make life more difficult.”
“Thank you for your understanding, ma’am. I wish this hadn’t happened, but Lord Zelith can be quite determined,” the maid said, a flicker of anxiety running across her face.
“I can imagine. Here, payment for the tea and your assistance,” Haral said, pulling out a handful of silver, more than enough to pay for the tea three times over, and likely with room to spare.
The maid’s eyes widened as she protested. “Ma’am, that’s more than you need to pay, especially after being interrupted!”
“I know it is, but I’m not in poor enough of a mood to punish you for his actions. That would be the action of someone who’s truly of low birth,” Haral said, carefully pitching her voice to carry, and she could see Zelith suddenly stiffen, and how the other patrons looked in her direction, then at the angelic man. His cheeks colored slightly, but he retained his composure surprisingly well, in Haral’s opinion.
“I… I…�
� the maid began, obviously floundering as she realized what had happened.
Haral simply took the maid’s hand, pressed the coins into it, and headed for the door, ignoring Zelith as she did so.
If nothing else, at least his interruption had successfully distracted Haral from brooding over the Emberborn family. Haral still didn’t know what she was going to do with them, but for the moment it really didn’t matter. She’d figure that out later.
Chapter 13
“It’s good to see you, Ratha,” Alserah said, smiling down at the short human woman.
Ratha snorted, which made Alserah’s smile only widen. The other goddess was smaller than most women and a bit on the chubby side, though she was fit enough, Alserah knew. Ratha had soft brown hair that she kept shoulder-length and bright blue eyes, and she smiled as she looked back at Alserah.
“That it is, Ally. You’re looking better than the last time I saw you, too, which means that dream spider you told us about must have done a real number on you,” Ratha said, an odd accent to her voice.
“Yes, well, it isn’t like anyone exactly knew what the problem was. I feel… better. Much, much better,” Alserah replied, leaning down to hug the goddess of harvests. Ratha might not be the most powerful of deities, but she was reasonably potent and had surprised a great many other deities. “Thank you for coming.”
“I’m just sorry it took me so long. A host of nasty pests were coming over the border, and it took some time for the local deities to give me access so I could get the problem under control. Some idiot brought fruit from some of the eastern isles back that had… never mind, you don’t care about the details,” Ratha said, waving dismissively as she let go of Alserah and smiled, nodding toward the gates. “Shall we? I feel other deities as well… what, is it a full conclave?”
Hell's Ascendant (Mantles of Power Book 3) Page 9